


Day 18: Affections

by ofplanet_earth



Series: 30 days of Barduil [18]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Arranged Marriage, Bard and Thranduil drink a little too much wine, F/M, Legolas kind of hates her too, M/M, Sigrid kind of hates Legolas, and the rest is history, until he meets her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:00:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5238842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofplanet_earth/pseuds/ofplanet_earth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard and Thranduil have arranged to unite their kingdoms by marrying their eldest children. The evening takes an unexpected turn and Legolas and Sigrid aren't the only ones who discover new affections for their neighbours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 18: Affections

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alikuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alikuu/gifts).



> this one was requested by alikuu! 
> 
> I was having a slow go of it this morning, so I tried really hard not to worry about this fic being silly. because it is silly. these dorks are effing ridiculous.

“Da, do I have to?”

 “Yes my love. King Thranduil is expecting us. It would be impolite to refuse.” 

“But why do I have to be the one to marry Prince Legolas? 

“Would you have your sister marry him instead? She’s only a girl still!” 

“I would rather there be no wedding at all! Have you forgotten how terrible he was the last time he visited?

“He was barely seven years old!” Bard laughed. “And you were only five! Surely you can’t hold his actions against him forever.” 

“Exactly my point! I’ve not seen him since I was a girl. And now you expect me to marry him? I don’t love him, Da. I barely know him.” 

“These things— things like marriage— they cannot always be made for love, my darling. Certainly not when it comes to kings and princesses.” 

“This is unfair.” 

“I know it is. And I’m sorry. But you will find him much changed from the small boy who pulled your braids all those years ago. You may not love him now, but you may come to, in time. That is how I fell in love with your mother, after all.” 

“I don’t know, Da.” Sigrid sighed. 

“Besides. At least there you will be safe and happy and close by.” Sigrid rolled her eyes at this. “King Thranduil is a good man. He will see that you are taken care of when I am not there.” 

“King Thranduil is a good man.” Sigrid agreed with something of a sly smile upon her lips. 

“And his son is, as well. Worry not, my love. I would not have agreed to such an arrangement if I did not think it wise.”

 

Sigrid said nothing more as they rode on, but there was a mischief in her eyes that only grew as they neared the green trees at the edge of Thranduil’s kingdom.

♕

There had been no announcement of a wedding made, but Thranduil’s servants all greeted Bard and his daughter with knowing smiles and warm congratulations. They were escorted to the king’s private dining hall to see a grand supper had been laid out. Thranduil stood from his seat and opened his arms to receive them.

“Sigrid, my darling you look lovely,” Thranduil held her hands in his and kissed her cheeks before turning to Bard with a wide smile. “Bard. It has been too long.” 

“I saw you not one month past at the summit in Erebor!” Bard laughed. “How much more often would you have my company?” 

“As often as you will allow it, my friend, and without the pretext of diplomacy or commerce. And preferably _not_ in the presence of Durin’s Folk. I do not care for them, no matter how ardently they wish to trade their cheap trinkets.” 

“Those trinkets are some of the most sought after in the land, my king. Surely you would do well to consider their offer.” 

“I have considered it. I will drive down their price, regardless.” 

“So much effort spent on posturing and theatrics. Do you ever grow weary of it?”

“Of course,” Thranduil smiled. “But you know as well as I do how important appearances are. Especially when dealing with men like _Thorin Oakenshield_.” 

“I do not think you need worry so much about appearances. Your kingdom is prosperous, your army is great and your reputation precedes you.” 

“And what is my reputation?” Thranduil sat in his seat with a laugh and a grand flourish of his robes. “Spoiled and cold and concerned only with treasures of the earth?” 

“Cold, perhaps, but only toward those who would oppose you. You are the most ruthless negotiator, the most fearless captain and the most noble king this side of the sea.” Bard took the seat beside Thranduil, eyeing the feast laid out on the table, yet aware that their entire company was not yet present.

“And your beauty,” Sigrid spoke up from where she took her seat opposite Bard. She smiled sweetly at their host, but Bard could see the same mischief in her eyes as he’d seen on the carriage ride from Dale. “You are known as the most beautiful king in all of Middle Earth.” 

“Well I’m sure that is not true.” Thranduil laughed. 

“What do you think, Da?”

“I’m sure I couldn’t say,” Bard replied as he sipped from the goblet of wine that had been placed in front of him. 

“Don’t be silly,” Sigrid leaned her chin against her folded fingers and offered her sweet, teasing smile again. “Surely you could make an objective observation, no different than anyone.” 

Bard looked between his daughter and his friend, both waiting for him to speak. “I think King Thranduil is very beautiful indeed.” He sad at last, and was grateful when Legolas entered the hall the next moment, lifting the attention from his shoulders and allowing him to breathe.

“Legolas,” Thranduil’s voice was bright, but with a warning edge. “So good of you to join us. Have a seat so that we may eat.” But Legolas had stopped some distance from the table. He stood still as stone, jaw hanging slack and eyes fixed on Sigrid. She was valiantly studying the pattern of the goblet before her, no doubt thinking of the prince’s childhood antics and misbehaviours. Legolas approached the table at length, and pulled his chair out slowly, and looked at Bard’s daughter with a reverence and awe such that Bard had never seen on a man so young.

He had visited Eryn Galen often enough to watch the young prince grow into the good man he saw before him. He watched now as Sigrid looked up from her goblet to discover the same truth. Legolas held his hand out for her to take. “It is an honour, Highness.” 

Sigrid appeared shocked at such polite behaviour, and at the overwhelming sincerity in Legolas’s eyes. She placed her hand in his and blushed when he raised it to his lips. Bard smiled and turned to Thranduil to share his delight. “The entire journey here she went on and on about how poorly he’d treated her the last time they met.” He whispered. 

“But he was only seven!” Thranduil hissed and ducked his head to the side so that Bard might hear him more easily. “Surely she cannot think him the same boy who stole her doll and mocked her hair.” 

“He stole her doll?” Bard frowned. “I’ve not heard that story before.” 

“Perhaps it was Tilda’s doll. It’s been so long I can scarcely remember, but I scolded him well for it.”

“Tilda has no ill opinion of him. She nearly begged me to come along when we set off this morning.” Thranduil chuckled and lifted his goblet from the table. 

“This engagement might not be such a headache, after all.”

♕

The evening continued with Thranduil and Bard keeping their own company as Legolas and Sigrid reacquainted themselves. It seemed to be going well, or at least to Bard’s eyes. His daughter had barely touched her food, preferring instead to engage in conversation with the prince.

 

Their talk was light and their laughter rang through the dining hall as the night wore on. Thranduil had drunk nearly four goblets of wine and a blush had taken up residence on his cheeks. Bard was working on his third, slower in pace but persistent, for it felt rude to leave his host to drink alone. 

“Da,” Sigrid’s voice was teasing and a smile had spread over her eyes. “I should retire to bed. The day’s journey was long and I find I can barely keep my eyes open.” 

“Very well, my love. Sleep well.” Bard put his wine down and stood to kiss her cheek as she left. Legolas accompanied her. In fact he never took his eyes off her. Bard might have been upset, had this not been exactly what he’d hoped for. 

“Well I must admit. Legolas turned a corner rather quickly.” Thranduil sighed.

“He was not so agreeable prior to our arrival?” 

“I should say not.” Thranduil leaned back in his chair, all pretence and pomp gone from his posture. Bard remained on his feet and stretched his aching back.

“Perhaps we could walk the castle a while?” Bard asked. “I fear I am getting too old for such frequent journeys anymore.” 

“I will hear no such talk in my halls!” Thranduil exclaimed. “If you are old than I am as well, and I refuse to believe it.” 

“I apologize, your Majesty. I did not seek to insult you so.” Bard bowed dramatically as they began to walk the corridors in the fading light of the day. They came at last to the grand throne room, cloaked in shadows that hid from the dancing torchlight. 

“Do you know what Legolas said to me this morning? When I told him he was to marry Sigrid?” 

“You only told him this morning?” Bard laughed. “No wonder he was not so agreeable!”

“I admit, it was not my finest decision.”

“I should say not. Sigrid has known about this nearly as long as we have.” 

“Yes, well. He told me that it was a ruse— merely an elaborate way to distract everyone from my own feelings for you!” Thranduil laughed and carried on. “Honestly, could you imagine? If we’d arranged for our children to wed only so we could avoid admitting some forbidden love?”

“Certainly not!” Bard found himself leaning against the wall, his laughter shortening his breath and making him weak. 

“That would be madness!” Thranduil leaned his hand against the wall beside Bard while the other clutched at his side. Torchlight sparked in his eyes when he met Bard’s gaze again. 

The echoes of their laughter quieted as they stood, Thranduil close enough for Bard to smell the wine on his breath. Then the hall was silent but for the snap and crackle of fire.

“It would be madness,” Bard’s voice was low and serious— a far cry from their spirited jokes. His gaze dropped to Thranduil’s lips as his purple tongue snuck out to wet them. 

It was Bard who leaned forward and caught those lips with his own mouth. It was Bard whose breath whistled harshly through his nose, but it was Thranduil whose hands reached out to grasp Bard’s shoulder and clutch at his waist. It was Thranduil who sent them pitching into the wall and Thranduil whose ragged moan echoed around the high ceilings.

It was also Thranduil who, in his haste to lead them from the throne room, nearly knocked over a suit of armour and sent them both into hysterics again.

**Author's Note:**

> got a fic idea? [send me an ask](http://www.ofplanet-earth.tumblr.com/ask) and I'll add it to the list!  
> I like to tag [inspiration](http://www.ofplanet-earth.tumblr.com/tagged/30-days-of-barduil).  
> you can keep track of my word count on my [novel page](http://nanowrimo.org/participants/ofplanet-earth/novels/30-days-of-barduil) or on my [tumblr](http://www.ofplanet-earth.tumblr.com/tagged/nanowrimo).


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